


Touching Darkness

by Ysmene



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M, First Time, Last Time, Post-Project Avalon, Season/Series 01, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29605014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysmene/pseuds/Ysmene
Summary: He had intrigued her, this dark-eyed man, who wore his independence as a badge of pride. Such things were not known among her people. She sought to understand him and found something else instead.
Relationships: Kerr Avon/Cally
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	Touching Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I read something recently where someone suggested that Avon and Cally had had a brief affair early on when there was less at stake, only for Cally to call it off because Avon was too emotionally damaged. Now I don't ship Avon/Cally as a rule, but I can *just* about see this happening in light of their later relationship. So just this once, Avon and Cally, the first time, the last time, and the birth of a friendship.

It began as it always did, with his hands sliding around her waist from behind when he thought she was not expecting it. 

She allowed him his conceit, although she was always aware of his presence. His desire to seduce was arousing, electrifying every nerve in her body in anticipation of what was to come. He would press against her back, radiating warmth. She would lean into him, craving his touch as his hands drew higher to her breasts, gently caressing. Lips would follow, stroking the bare skin above her collar from neck to ear, and he would tell that he wanted her. 

Then, taking her by hand, he would lead her to a quiet place and, in stolen moments, they would make love. 

He had intrigued her, this dark-eyed man, who wore his independence as a badge of pride. Such things were not known among her people. Where all was shared and all was known, strength came from a unity of minds, not singularity.

By contrast, the people of Earth protected their secrets. From what she had observed, it brought them no peace. Blake was haunted by what he had lost. For Vila, they fed his fears. They filled Gan’s eyes with perpetual sadness and drove Jenna to test her limits against past doubts.

She had studied her new friends and sought to understand them until only one remained: Avon, preferring solitude over company. 

When they gathered, he sat to one side, toying with a device or the console beside him. Muted colours allowed him to hide in plain sight while others aped the peacock. He was guarded, as though he had made a conscious decision to observe before he become involved. This lack of engagement had fuelled Vila’s taunts on more than one occasion, yet she suspected he was far from being heartless. His emotions were there if anyone had taken time to see.

Because she was intrigued, she had fought his resistance. The approach mattered. He would not be pursued nor wooed. An outside influence had given her the first sign of a potential entrance through his work. Little by little, she had awakened his interest. She had noticed it in gazes that lingered on her a few seconds too long, the way his voice became softer when he spoke to her or a laugh shared over Vila’s antics. 

The first time he had kissed her, he had kept his eyes half open, checking her response every time he came back for air. A rare moment alone, she had moved into his proximity with just the right look in her eyes, as if she knew his desires. With a kiss, he had closed the gap between them. His hands had roamed her body, satisfied at the blend of relaxation and tension he found there. From there, they had found their way to bed, where their bodies had found their own natural rhythm. 

It had not been the first time for either of them, and yet their love-making had been tentative. She sensed his hesitation was borne of uncertainty of the perceived differences between them. She had sought to reassure and held back from seeking the comfort of mental union for fear of alarming him. Without the support of other minds, it had been an empty experience, all physical sensation and nothing more.

Long after he had gone, she realised Avon had given nothing of himself, save what had been necessary for their mutual pleasure. She told herself the reticence had all been on her side and her dissatisfaction from the lack of telepathic connection she had craved. She told herself if she could not have that, then she would embrace what he offered and give him something back.

The next time, when he came to her and kissed her gently, it had not been gentleness she had wanted. 

She had knotted her fists in his tunic, pulling him hard against her, arousal tangling against his need. She had pushed him backwards onto the sofa, straddling him, kissing on the flight deck with the risk of discovery adding excitement to the moment. The firmness of his body beneath her was inflaming. She had become drunk on the very scent of him. So late in the day, his face had the slightest hint of stubble that chafed her skin, leaving her tingling at his touch. 

She had not cared. She had craved intimacy. At the height of their passion, she had let her control slip just a little and let her mind touch his. It had been enough to tip him over the edge.

It kept him coming back. Every time, she let him share her experience a little more, so gradual that he never knew what was happening or why their love-making was all the more gratifying for it. She did not tell him. The Auronar had long taught that the human mind with all its frailties could not withstand the avalanche of sensation from a mind-touch. She had convinced herself there was no harm in it, that her intentions were only for good, that she might know and understand him. 

Because she needed him to keep the loneliness at bay, she ignored the warning signs.

She kept ignoring them until the night his hands had snaked around her waist and he clasped her forcefully. His kisses had been harder, deeper, imbued with a fervent, urgent need she had never known before. Bodies pressed together, never breaking contact, they had made it to the nearest room with a lock and in darkness had tumbled to the floor. 

His hands had worked downwards, shearing off her clothes, followed by kisses. She felt her back arch against the unforgiving floor, the discomfort heightening the pleasure, the first whimper escaping her lips, knowing where his fingers would soon reach. 

He held back, judging her reaction, feeling her body writhe beneath his touch. She allowed him his illusion of control, and then the sides of his thighs were pressed against hers and he was changing her breathing with every thrust, hearing her moans timed to his body. 

She reached out to him, seeking an opening with a desperation that equalled his. She let him taste her pleasure and was rewarded with his breathy gasp. Desire was fracturing his barriers. The nearer to climax, her control began to fray. She tried to hold back and lost her way, shuddering against him, flooding his mind with the full force of her emotions. 

Avon jerked under the impact, a cry ripped from him as he was spurred into sudden orgasm. He clung to her, as if afraid she might leave him, and called a name that was not hers with such ache and longing that it hurt her to hear him. She held him as his strength ebbed away and his ragged breath breezed hot across her neck. In the silence, the damp spreading across her shoulder told of the damage she had done. Somewhere in his well of secrets, she had touched the darkest place of all.

Her sense of betrayal was complete when Avon abruptly pulled free, gathered up his clothes and left without saying another word. She lay in the dark, certain he would never forgive her. 

She knew too that the path they had been treading had been a dangerous one. Of all the secrets carried by the people of Earth, his carried the potential for destruction, of himself and others. If the sex had been superficial, it had been because he could not give of himself without giving his heart – and that, she now knew, belonged to another.

It had to end for both their sakes. And if either of them were to remain on the Liberator, they would have to make their peace. 

She found him on the flight deck, surrounded by an array of electronic gadgets as he distracted himself with some minor problem with the navigation computers. Vila leapt at her offer to take over his watch and he gratefully scurried away, leaving them alone.

She lingered in Avon’s line of sight, respecting the new distance between them, until finally she found the confidence to speak.

“I apologise,” she said.

His gaze washed over her. “I rather think that falls to me. What I did was... unforgivable.”

“It might have been my fault. I lost control.”

“I know.”

She looked at him curiously. His tone of voice suggested her admission had not come as a surprise. 

A smile softened his features. “I am familiar with my own responses, Cally. I could feel you guiding me at times. It was not altogether unpleasant.”

“You never said.”

“I didn’t want to discourage you. It had certain compensations.”

“You are not angry?”

“No.” He put down his tool quite deliberately. “However, I think it would be unwise to do it again. You deserve...”

 _Better_ , came his voice, loud and crystal clear in her mind. She tried to read his eyes to see if she was imagining it. Impossible for her to be reading his thoughts. Was it instinct filling in for him? Having seen his darkness, did she finally understand him for who he was?

“You deserve to find that connection you need,” he finished.

He reached out and his hand lingered at her elbow. She would not press him for his reasons. He needed a friend more than a lover and she had resolved to be a very good friend to him indeed. Being a good friend meant she would never refer to what he had revealed. She would accept whatever he was prepared to offer and ask no more.

“Thank you, Avon,” she said, and meant it.


End file.
